


Winter’s Cold, But You Keep Me Warm...

by SoloShadowling



Series: Demons Among Us [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy bois - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: "precipitation", (more or less), : ), Adoption, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Coats are symbolic in this one and the last one :), Cuddles, Demon!Tommy, Demons, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, Quite possibly one of my fluffiest fics, Repetition of snow/rain, Supernatural Elements, Tommy is no longer homeless, Winter, [hah-look at me i'm a real author now i use symbolism and shit], hints of other supernatural beings, l o r e, little bit of language, maybe a minor touch of angst but it's not serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloShadowling/pseuds/SoloShadowling
Summary: Winter was always a beautiful season.The way snow glittered on the ground, puffs of white mist escaping warm breaths, rosy cheeks and cheerful smiles-it was hard not to enjoy it.Unfortunately, winter in the state of Florida included more rain than snow and festive lights thrown on palm trees. It was still a little chilly, especially if you had grown used to the humidity.Tommy had nowhere to go, nowhere to stay, and damn, it was wet out here.----(Aka: Phil ‘adopts’ another kid)
Relationships: (ALL OF THIS IS FAMILY DYNAMICS), Philza & Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit & Philza
Series: Demons Among Us [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909135
Comments: 14
Kudos: 272





	Winter’s Cold, But You Keep Me Warm...

**Author's Note:**

> Gods, this took so long to get outttttt-
> 
> And I am super super sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [quite a bit of lore though :) enjoy it, all you funky little theorists]

Phil hadn’t originally grown up with snowy winters, but he loved them nonetheless. Living in the UK just kinda inspired that in you. 

He loved the way the snowflakes would glitter in the streetlights as they fell; the sounds of children laughing and playing; the warm feeling he would get holding hands with his beloved. It made his heart ache, almost. 

They had gotten married in the winter, an odd time considering the era, but they didn’t care. And by the gods, the wedding was beautiful. The venue wasn’t crowded, most of his friends had grown too old and tired, or they had passed. His fiance didn’t have much family either, and only a few close companions. She was beautiful though, positively radiant. 

If Phil could’ve paused any moment in time,  _ that _ would have been it. 

They never started a family, though they dreamed of it. Anyone carrying his bloodline was in danger, and his wife was unable to bear children. They lived happily nonetheless.

Of course, mortal lives are fragile; they are short. 

His beloved passed after 50 long years of faithful and happy marriage. Everyday after her passing seemed bleak. Part of him wished that he could have gone with her.

Maybe it was good that he didn’t give up though.

A faint smile crossed Phil’s face in thought. In recent years, he’s adopted (more or less) two wonderful boys, who have grown up beautifully. Kristin would have loved them.

His eldest and first, named Wilbur Soot, had been entrusted to him by another hunter. The seven year old had been involved in an accident regarding supernatural creatures and an illegal hunt by unregistered and unaligned hunters,  _ poachers  _ if you will. The poor thing was unable to speak for so long, and he feared every little creak in the floor boards. He seemed to be absolutely miserable, but once Phil was able to bring him out of his shell, Wilbur blossomed. 

Phil remembers the first time the boy actually  _ spoke _ to him. It was a surprisingly warm winter’s night, the rain gently pattering on the windows of his small apartment. 

They had just finished an animated film,  _ The Little Mermaid _ , and were cuddling under a fluffy blanket. It was so warm, and Phil’s heart swelled every moment watching Wilbur, his son, his boy, snuggle deeper into his side. 

Phil was certainly not ready to hear him say three little words, the child’s voice thick with sleep.

“Love you, dad-dy.” It was a little mumbled, but he heard it nonetheless. His eyes began to water, heart aching with how much love he had for this boy. Phil would’ve fought Heaven and Hell if Wilbur asked. 

“Love you too, buddy.” It was short of a whisper, but it seemed to satisfy Wilbur as his breathing slowed and he fell asleep. The man only held him closer, falling asleep moments after.

Wilbur still had a little trouble speaking but that was easily overcome. He took an interest in music and singing, something Phil seemed to expect considering the boy’s background. Songs from  _ the Little Mermaid _ were sung on repeat and it almost made the man regret ever watching the movie. Wilbur had no recollection of the event that had scarred him so much, and Phil wasn’t about to try and remind him. 

His second son came along about seven years later. Wilbur was actually the one to find the scruffy eleven year old, caked in mud and grime. It had been a cloudy day, the kind that threatened to precipitate at any moment. 

The two had been walking home from the grocery store, paper bags full of fruits, veggies, the ingredients for french toast, and little cakes that Wilbur enjoyed. Somehow Phil had missed the negative energy of something hurt and afraid, probably too busy worrying about getting inside before the snow. He wore his usual bucket hat and long pine green cardigan, while his son had donned a frankly distasteful mustard sweater (but who was he to deny the child something he loved). Either way, neither of the garments would save them from the storm the weatherman had promised. 

Wilbur suddenly stopped in his tracks, outside the entrance to an alleyway, silently staring down the dark and dank passage. Phil was only a few feet away when he realised his son was missing. 

From the alley, two black silhouettes (one much taller than the other) stood out against the grey of the sky, the hidden sun making the clouds a little brighter. They looked like some higher beings, ready to judge your fate and send you to the afterlife. Something shuffled behind the cardboard boxes, sending wrinkled papers floating to the ground. 

Phil carefully handed Wilbur his bag of groceries and slowly stepped into the alley. The shuffling grew still, and even without a supernatural sense, the man could feel the fear radiating off the creature. Upon reaching the box, Phil crouched and offered a warm smile to whatever was inside; it seemed human, but Phil could feel a hint of something. 

He’d have to investigate later, once the being was calmer. 

“Hey, little guy,” Whatever was in the box seemed to flinch at the voice. Phil tried to soften his tone even more, “Sorry. What are you doing out here all alone, hm?”

The being whimpered, curling in on itself further. The box was still too dark for the man to make out any details.

“Do you want to come with me? I can get you cleaned up, maybe some food? Maybe find your family..?” The being didn’t respond, refusing to move. Phil sighed. “I can’t just let you stay out here, mate. It’s unsafe.”

The man pursed his lips before looking at his son still standing with the bags, looking into the alley curiously. 

“How about this, can you tell me your name?” He looked back to the box. “My name is Phil, and over there,” he nodded his head towards the boy, “is my son Wilbur.”

He heard the being shift in the box, obviously trying to see whatever was out there. There were no peepholes; the only way to see was to actually get out of the box. Slowly, the creature crawled forward, hesitant but willing to extend some form of trust to this stranger. Phil let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. 

“Hi there,” he continued to smile, hoping his aura was a calming, reassuring presence, “Can you tell me your name, little one?”

Two dark eyes blinked at him, pausing in consideration. It was a child, of course, probably around eleven, but he was so small and thin he could have been mistaken for an eight year old. The child’s voice was quiet, possibly quieter than Wilbur when he was learning to speak again. There was a slight rasp to it, from disuse most likely, and the distinct foreign accent (American, Phil would later place it; it was still a surprise he never lost the accent despite the country he continued to grow up in).

“Technoblade.”

Philza stilled for a moment, thinking. It was an odd name, certainly one he’d never heard before. Nonetheless, he continued to smile. 

“Nice to meet you, Technoblade.” He reached out for the kid, in a motion to pick him up and carry him, “How about we go home and get you cleaned up?”

Technoblade nodded carefully, moving closer to Phil so he could pick him up. He was way too light, and he was absolutely filthy. How long has he been living out here?

The three managed to make it home before the first flakes hit the ground.

It was soon learned, after a warm meal and bath, that Techno (Phil decided to nickname) didn’t remember anything. He had barely remembered his name, the memories like glass fragments that continued to shatter and hurt everytime they were touched. 

Phil decided it was best that he stopped pressing.

Ultimately, the man didn’t go to the police to search for the child’s family. From what he could tell, Techno had no family and was most likely abandoned or an orphan. Either way, there was a certain energy to the boy, one of dormant power, locked away so deep that even the most powerful of mages would have a hard time cracking it. 

Techno was officially named a part of the family a few days later; and if Phil had to do a little string pulling to get the documents faster, no one had to know but himself.

  
  


Winter in Florida was different. 

There was no snow to be enchanted by; no children racing each other down icy streets, sleds dragging behind them; no loved ones to hold hands with, or cuddle, or hold tight just to share the warmth.

Wilbur and Techno had grown up. They were ‘too big and too old to snuggle’.

Phil always had to resist scoffing at them. There was no such thing as ‘too big’ or ‘too old’ to just cuddle your dear father under the softness of a few down blankets. Sometimes he missed when they were little. 

In Florida, you didn’t get snow; instead, you got rain. Lots and lots of rain.

If you were lucky, it would at least be a little warmer out, making the rain more of an annoyance rather than a threat to your well being.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those lucky days. The brisk wind amplified the coolness of the rain, cold biting into your skin. The sidewalks were dead except for a few umbrella holding citizens. Traffic was a little slower than usual, mostly because of the increased abundance of cars and drivers going slower so as to not get into an accident. 

Phil had gotten caught up in the storm, coming home from a simple walk for fresh air. The rain refused to let up all week, which was not that surprising for the state but Phil should’ve known better than to trust the weatherman (despite the fact that he was right for the most part). 

It rammed into his body, and the man had to resist the urge to shiver under his coat. His coat wasn’t meant for rain, but it helped stave off some of the chilly temperatures.

At the moment, he was a few streets away from the shop and the apartment that he called home. In order to cut down on time, Phil decided to walk through the park. There was a line of trees that he could cross through where he’d be spit out in front of an alley that passes between the buildings, and only a few stores down from where he needs to be. 

The park itself was practically abandoned, but it was to be expected. Trees loomed overhead, drops of rain water slid down their leaves, plopping onto those below. 

He couldn’t wait to get home, throw on his favorite sweater, and put on a movie-

Wait.

Huddled under one of the park benches, Phil spotted a familiar mess of blond hair and a red and white t-shirt that was getting darker every moment from the rain. The man stopped his original course, picking up his pace as he walked over to the boy.

“Tommy?” Addressed demon turned suddenly, surprised to see someone else. “What are you doing out here, kid?”

“Phil?” He sounded tired. Phil carefully placed a hand on the boy’s bare arm, nearly reeling at how cold his flesh felt. “What ‘re-?”

“Kid, you are freezing.” Tommy didn’t put up much of a fight, letting Phil pull him out from under the bench and into a standing position. The imp wobbled slightly-Phil didn’t want to guess how long he’d been out here. Especially without some sort of jacket. “Gimme a sec-”

Despite being semi-out of it, the boy’s eyes widened as he watched the man begin taking off his coat. “Wait, no. You don’t have to do that-Imma big man. I don’t get cold-”

Phil ignored his protests. “Nope. I don’t care if you think being Demonic is going to keep you warm-you are Earth born, and that means you-” He pointedly wrapped the coat around the boy, buttoning it up, “have a body more susceptible to the elements.” 

Tommy had gone quiet as Phil pulled the hood over the boy’s ears, making sure he was covered. He offered the teen a kind smile that rivaled the miserable weather around him. “Come on, I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

The imp only received a happy hum and a nod as he was guided out of the park, nestled in the smells of cloves, cinnamon, and old books. 

“Wil! Techno! I’m back!” Philza called out to his sons, only to find his eldest lounging on the couch, clicking through channels on the tv.

“Techno’s out. Got a call or something-” Wilbur then turned to look at his father who was holding Tommy steady with a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“He’ll be staying for a little while. As long as that’s okay with you” He gave Wilbur a look, one that said he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but it was better if he just agreed. They’d talk later, anyways.

“Yeah, sure. I don’t care.” The brunette shrugged, turning his attention back to the tv.  _ Phil better have a damn good reason for bringing the gremlin child into the apartment. _

“Thank you.” Phil directed Tommy down a hallway where their bedrooms, the bathroom, and a guest room were. “I’m letting Tommy borrow some of your clothes, okay?”

Wilbur resisted a grumpy mumble. “Sure; just make sure he doesn’t touch my sweaters or beanies!”

The imp, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire duration, muttered something only audible to Phil’s ears. “I wouldn’t want to wear his stupid beanies anyway…”

He chuckled, opening up the door to the guest room. 

The tv was playing some soap opera that Wilbur had no particular interest in. Hell, he didn’t even remember putting on the channel. Everything was more or less on autopilot, the laugh tracks and conversations were nothing more than white noise. His mind was more focused on the demon taking residence in their guest room.

_ Why was he here? Why was he wearing Phil’s coat? _

He heard the door click shut, softly, and turned his head to see Phil with his hand still on the door knob. 

There was silence between them as Phil walked towards the living room, the man still fairly wet. Wilbur followed his path with his head, watching the older man with an unamused brow raised. 

“So....” Wil broke the silence, turning off the tv.

“So.” His father echoed, not yet sitting on the couch. 

His son eyed him up and down, considering the man’s drowned rat appearance. “You can go change if you want, I’ll still be here. I just want an explanation.” 

Phil nodded, thinking for a moment before he turned back down the hall and into his room. The man on the couch sighed, trying to let his body relax; he hadn’t even realized how tense he was. 

He wallowed in the silence, the only thing that told him time was moving was the faint _ tick tick tick _ ing of a clock in the kitchen. The rain continued to patter outside, starting to downpour harder than before. Traffic was not going to be pretty. 

Hopefully Techno is okay. 

The padding of bare feet against wood brought him back to attention. 

...

“How long will he be staying?”  _ Best to get to the point _ , Wilbur decided.

Phil let out a breath. “I don’t know… I want to give him the guest room, so you can guess what I’m thinking.”

“Adopting another kid, basically.”

A beat of tense silence.

“Look, Wil…”

“Are we not enough, Phil? Techno and I?” The blond man was left gawking, in a stunned silence.

“You think I’m replacing you? Why the hell would you think that?” 

Wilbur scowled, “Do you know how similar this situation is? It’s basically how we brought home Techno…”

Phil couldn’t help but softly laugh at his son’s antics. “I think you need a lesson in Demonics; specifically  _ imps _ .”

“What more do I need to know other than he’s a thieving, little gremlin who-”

“There’s more to it than that, you know.” Phil was sitting on the couch now, one arm propped up to hold his head as he gave him an amused smile. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…” Phil hummed, “Imps are possibly one of the closest demonics to humans, other than cambions. It was even theorized that the first imp was the offspring of a demonic and some sort of fae or fairy.”

“So? What’s your point-?”

“Shush, I’m getting there. Unlike most demons, imps are born-biologically born-and only on the mortal plane. Most of the time, imps can go through their entire life without even stepping foot in Hell. But more importantly, imps are often abandoned by their parents at a very, very young age.”

Wilbur processed the information for a moment, then the look of realization dawned on his face. “Oh…”

Phil nodded. “A lot of imps don’t find out what they are until much later, and so they also don’t know about some of their abilities.” He sighed, “For a demonic, he’s young. And he barely knows his abilities.”

“Pfft, how would you know that?” Wilbur leaned back into the cushions. 

“I asked him why he hadn’t at least found some sort of decent shelter and made a fire to keep warm.” He leveled his son a look, “He didn’t know he could conjure fire.”

“Well, if the guest room’s burning in the morning, I blame you.” He tried for a joke, and patted himself on the back when Phil cracked a smile and a small laugh. They fell into an easier silence. “...I assume he’s staying for a while then.”

His father nodded. “If he wants. Apparently, he’s never really had a home of his own. I want to change that.” 

Wilbur didn’t comment, instead thinking to himself. Having Tommy around can’t be the worst thing in the world, plus the kid was constantly hanging around the place already. But if he was living here, Phil would probably put him to work in the shop, and Wil could be his boss! That’d be great! 

Then something occurred to him.

“Wait, wasn’t he hanging around Techno for a while? Did he let him sleep with him or..?” 

Phil gave him a semi-strained smile, one that told him someone was in trouble and should be extremely wary. “Don’t worry. He and I will be discussing that when he gets back.”

Wilbur simply looked away, nodding to himself.

_ Rip Techno... _

  
  


[Techno did in fact get an earful the next morning when Phil found out he knew the kid was homeless and he hadn’t offered Tommy a room in the apartment. Wilbur and Tommy watched from the hall with mixed feelings of amusement and fear.]

  
  


**Extra:**

Rain pelted the windows of the small deli, the scent of lunch meat heavy in the air. The plastic seats were chilled to the touch, the tables no better.

Techno sat, hunched over a basket of chips as he waited for his employer. The pink haired man did not appreciate being pulled away at such a late hour and during such weather, and then  _ the guy being late _ .

As he crunched another potato chip, he heavily considered just leaving and forfeiting the job. 

A bell dinged, signalling the arrival of another customer. The hunter glanced at the door, noticing the man look around before finally spotting him. It wasn’t like there were many people there, plus Techno stood out fairly well with his bubblegum pink hair. 

Now that he thought of it, his hair was going to cause problems in the future…

The tap of shoes on tiles getting closer to him made Techno finally look up again. He followed the man with his head as he sat down across form him. 

“Technoblade?” The man’s voice was gruff, but it fit his rotund figure. He seemed to be balding and constantly squinting. 

“Yep.” Techno sounded bored, eating another chip. “What’s the job?”

“My name is-” 

“I need to know what the job is, not who you are.”  _ Crunch. _ “So what is it?”

His possible employer sneered in disgust. “ _ Excuse me? _ ”

“Look. You want the job done or not?” Techno leveled him a look, “I can just as easily say no and leave you here.” Another chip was munched. “So tell me the job, or we’re done here.”

The man looked utterly offended, mouth gaping as he tried to come up with some response. Finally, he angrily grumbled: “There’s a djinn I need you to take care of. He cheated me out of my wishes and I want him gone.”

“Not gonna lie, that sounds like a  _ you  _ problem.”

“ _ You are testing my patience- _ ” Techno only rose a brow, popping yet another chip in his mouth. The man gave an exasperated sigh, trying to collect himself. “Will you take the job or not?”

The hunter turned one of the greasy chips in his hand as if he were considering the job. 

“Sure, why not.”

His employer sighed in relief, quickly getting out of the chair and making his way to the door. “I will send you the information sometime tomorrow. Have a good night.”

Techno only hummed, shoulders sagging once he heard the door close.

As Tommy would have said,  _ what a prick. _

  
  



End file.
